Page 18 of On Thin Ice

“Yeah,” I said, and that seemed to be enough. “Anyway, I need Jonah’s address if I’m going to check on him.”

“Grandpa can take you,” Soren suggested. “He’s picking me up.”

“Thank you,” I said, and waited for Soren to ask. I saw his grandpa nod, and Soren gestured me over. Only, as soon as I got near the car, I pointed at the front door. “Shotgun to navigate,” I said, and dared Felix to argue.

Seemed as if, today, I could get away with anything because he didn’t offer me a single peep, not that he would, because then he and Soren got to share the back seat. Soren’s grandpa was a sweet guy who wanted to talk about bacon, which I liked because I didn’t want to talk about hockey, although Soren and Felix were dissecting our last game to death.

“And that’s why I like the maple syrup on those,” Soren’s grandpa summarized.

I nodded along. “Same,” I lied—I hadn’t been listening as well as I should have.

When we arrived at the house, Soren immediately spoke up. “We’ll wait out here,” he suggested, but I shook my head.

“Mom is on call; she’ll pick me up. Thank you,” I added to Soren’s grandpa, who nodded and smiled.

“Remember the maple syrup,” he said.

“I will, sir.”

“But if you’re just saying hi, we can wait,” Felix interrupted the bacon chat from the back seat, and I met his gaze in the mirror. He subsided quickly.

“I might be here hours,” I said, then repeated it for good measure. “Hours!”

No one argued, and I smiled back at Soren. “Thanks for organizing the ride.”

“Always,” he said with a smile, and I caught the quick kiss that Felix gave Soren as Soren moved to sit up front with his grandpa. I don’t know how to explain it, but my heart smiled to see them so happy together. I wanted that. I wanted to feel like my heart was smiling, with casual kisses, and I-love-yous, and hugs, and stupid little shared stories.

I waited at the door for a second, made sure they drove away, even sketched a little wave at them when Felix waved. Idiot. Then, I couldn’t put off going inside, so I knocked. The house itself was an older model, set back from the road; the yard was coated with frost and there were glimpses of toys in the flowers—a Barbie here, a teacup there, the handlebars and front wheel of a bike poking around the corner—and I seemed to recall from a family day that Jonah had sisters? No one was answering, but then the door opened on the chain.

“Yes?” a little voice asked, and my gaze traveled down until I met wide and curious eyes and went to a half crouch. Given how short I was, this must be a very little sister.

“Hi. I’m Tyler, Jonah’s uhm… friend. Can I see him?”

“He has an ouchie,” the little girl informed me.

I nodded. “I know.”

“He cried.”

Great. Now my smiley heart was all twisted up and compassionate and sad, and I really needed to see Jonah to find out what he’d been thinking. Then to ask him about why he didn’t have friends, and find out about his family, and his house, and his neighborhood.

“I bet he did,” I said. “Can you get your mom, or your dad?”

She peered out at me, and for a few moments, we stared in silence, then she slammed the door shut, or as hard as a small kid could. Odds were bad that she even came back, and I told myself I’d give it a minute before I knocked again. Or maybe I could find Jonah’s room and throw rocks at his window.

The door chain rattled and, this time, the door opened wide—this must be Jonah’s dad, because there was no sign of recognition until he clocked my uniform.

“Emma!” he bellowed. “Someone’s here!”

Jonah’s mom appeared at his side; her arms full of the same small girl I’d already spoken to.

“Tyler, hello.” She was cautious, the little girl grimaced, and Jonah’s dad glared at me. It was the unholy trinity of welcomes.

“Uhm…” Shoulders back, tilt chin up. “Jonah said I could visit, so I thought, strike while the iron’s hot and all that.”

Jonah’s dad sniffed and cast his gaze from my head to my toes. Great. He was seeing the pink hair, and the badges on the messenger bag over my shoulder, and I just knew what he was thinking. I tilted my chin a lot more and met his judgmental gaze steadily.

“You one of those kids who hurt my son?!” he demanded.

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